L is for the Way You Look at Me
by Sylvia Sterling
Summary: Aziraphale decides to get girlfriends, but Crowley has something else planned. CrowleyAziraphale slash, of course.


A/N: First fic...comments appreciated! I did this at four A.M. when I was tired out of my mind so...you hush.  
Disclaimer: Sadly enough, Crowley and Aziraphale are not mine. Though Crowley may be borrowed...? -hopeful look- The song, also, is not mine, though I do not know whose it is.  
Summary: Aziraphale decides to get girlfriends, but Crowley has other plans. Crowley/Aziraphale slash, of course.

The Angel stared vaguely off into space, lost in his own world. His angel, Crowley thought. No! His mind yelped. You do not feel...this. Demons. Do not. Um...L-word. Understand?

"Yes," said Aziraphale, giving Crowley cause to blush. "Yes, I think that could work out very well."

"Er?"

The Heavenly being sighed. "You haven't heard a word I've said." He pouted adorably.

"Er," repeated Crowley, intelligently.

"Really, dear, you must try to stay out of your own thoughts. It's dangerous in there, you know." A trace of a smirk tickled the corners of his utterly kissable lips.

"Uh. Yeah. So what'd you say?" said Crowley, trying very hard to resist the impulse to grab his Angelic counterpart by the shirt, wrestle him to the floor, and hold him and never let go.

"I was saying," he said gently, "that we might, er, find a pair of...you know. Girls. To, um, go with, and uh, try to..." He trailed off, an embarrassed flush rising in his pale cheeks.

Crowley grinned in spite of himself. "You mean you want to give in to human desire, rip off their clothes, and make sweet, delectable love to them?"

"No!" said the Angel hotly, his cheeks becoming redder by the second. "I just meant we should do our respective...erm...duties!"

Crowley's grin widened wickedly. "You never could say the right thing, could you, Angel?"

"About this...admittedly...no."

"All right," Crowley said, causing Aziraphale to lose his rosy tint. "Let's do it."

"Wh--what?" he stuttered.

"You heard me. Let's. Do. It. Find a nice pair of broads."

"Oh." He looked vaguely disappointed. "Right. Yes. Well." He straightened his lapel in a nervous way that was too cute for Crowley to bear.

"Hey...Angel..." He blinked behind his sunglasses. "Um."

His angel's expression softened a bit. He looked concerned. "What is it, my dear?"

"I, um. Have you ever...well, I mean...uh." He stared at his hands hopelessly.

Aziraphale grinned. "You can tell me anything, friend."

Crowley swallowed. Before he had a chance to stop himself, he said, the words blurring together in a rush, "You are my light, my laughter, my only, my want, my need, my lust, my passion, my desire, Angel, I can't stop this, and I must tell you that--"

Aziraphale blinked at him. This was unexpected.

"Uh," Crowley said. "I. I um. Have to go be somewhere else entirely." He stood on shaking legs, and then he ran, ran and ran until-  
"Crowley!"

The Angel. His angel.

Crowley stopped. He remained motionless. Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away,

No such luck.

"Crowley!"

Closer this time. His heart was pounding in his chest, and not just from running. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes?" he croaked.

A warm, soft hand on his shoulder. "You never finished your sentence," said the Angel softly.

Crowley turned to face him. "Aziraphale...you..." He sighed deeply and looked down.

"I...?"

"Wouldn't believe me." He shrugged out of the Angel's grasp, despite how much he wanted to stay there. He looked straight into the beautiful, perfect blue eyes--eyes that were filled with so much love, so much concern.

"Try me?" An almost devilish smile played across perfectly shaped, angelic lips.

Oh man, Crowley thought. Man oh man he knows, he knows and he hates me for it and--

And suddenly he knew no more. All that existed was the sweet, soft pull of those Angel lips and the warmth of strong hands on his back, holding him, holding him, and refusing to let go. He found that his hands, too, were in the Angel's golden hair, mussing it. He thought vaguely that Aziraphale would hate to have his hair messed, and then he realized that neither being cared.

"So Crowley," said Aziraphale presently. Both were lying on the ground, wrapped in each other's arms. Crowley was drawing small circles on his friend's calf with his toe. Neither had remembered where he had placed his clothes.

"Mm," Crowley murmured.

"You never did finish that sentence of yours."

"What s--oh. I meant to say. Um. I. Uh."

Why was this so hard? He was a bloody demon, for Ch--for A--for someone's sake! Things like this came naturally to him.

Not this time.

Aziraphale looked at him and smiled warmly. "Would you like a bit of help?"

Crowley stared blankly. "Huh?"

The Angel began to sing. And to Crowley, it was beautiful. "L is for the way you look at me. O is for the only one I see.  
V is very, very extraordinary.  
E is even more than anyone that you adore can.  
Love is all that I can give to you.  
Love is more than just a game for two.  
Two in love can make it.  
Take my heart and please don't break it.  
Love was made for me and you."

"That's it," said Crowley, snuggling into Aziraphale's chest. "That's exactly it, Angel."


End file.
